A Killer: Past & Present
by Connor846
Summary: A crossover between Bones and New Amsterdam. A serial killer is stalking the streets of D.C., one with ties to John Amsterdams past.
1. The Bowie Knife

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Fox show Bones, nor did I create these two characters or the places described here. No copyright infringement intended and no monetary profit. This is purely for testing my own creativity.

Connor

**Authors Note:** This is the start of a whole slew of Bones stories that are primarily crossovers with other movies and TV series. I will be working to constantly refine my writing technique to deliver as good of a story that I can for you, the readers, to enjoy. Constructive reviews are appreciated and negative criticism will be ignored.

* * *

**Bones/New Amsterdam  
**_**A Killer: Past & Present**_

In today's world there is much evil present. Yet, for all the evil in the world there are those that champion the cause of good, those that give voice to the victims of evil, and those who give justice for the dead.

Sometimes it just takes a hundred and forty years or so to do this …

* * *

_**The Jeffersonian Institute  
**__**Washington D.C. **_

The Jeffersonian Anthropology intern examined the hilt of the knife sticking out of the sternum of the victim and poked at it. The look on his face suggested that he had seen this before. He studied the face. The corpse of a young brunette sat on the table and waited for the scientist to pronounce his verdict. In one swift move he grabbed the hilt and lifted it clear of the body.

Placing it down on an examining tray, he brought up several other photographs of what looked like the same exact knife.

"It's confirmed Dr. Brennan" he said. "It's the same depth and aperture as the previous victims … an edged weapon commonly known as a Bowie knife. It's the same make and model used in the previous victims."

A short woman in the signature blue smock of the Jeffersonian stood near the platform with a concerned look on her face. She was Dr. Temperance "Bones" Brennan. Her bright blue eyes scanned over the remains, her reddish auburn hair loosely framing her face that shone with worry.

"This is the 5th one that has the same signature and weapon as the previous victims. This is the only thing that's consistent" She said.

The sound of the security card swiping brought both their heads up from the remains on the table. Walking up the stairs was Special Agent Seeley Booth.

"FBI forensics confirms that the crime scene was swept clear. Nothing remained at all. No hair, no sweat, no fingerprints … nothing. We're dealing with a pro" He said

"Booth … whoever this is, they have clearly had forensics training and know to operate without a pattern that will get them caught. We have nothing further to go on except for the fact that it's the same exact knife used in each victim …" Said Brennan.

With a forlorn look on his face, Booth stared over the partially decomposed remains and glumly responded:

"I know"

* * *

**NYC Police Homicide Division  
****New York City**

A rather tall man sat a desk in the Homicide division of the NYC police. His current name was John Amsterdam, NYC Detective.

His former name, the one he was born with in 1607, was Johann Van Der Zee.

He is an immortal that has walked the earth for over 400 years. Today, he was to come face to face with a haunting memory of his past.

His eyes scanned over documents strewn about his desk. It was a rather slow day in the City. He and his partner were taking the time to review past case files and do administrative paperwork. The partner in question was sitting at her desk staring at the midday news.

"Hey Amsterdam, check this out" Said Eva Menendez.

She turned up the volume on the TV.

"… _and FBI officials here in D.C. are baffled by the murders that have been taking place over the past few months. They have confirmed that the killings are the work of one man … and he has been dubbed 'The Bowie Knife' case …"_

Amsterdam's head came up at that statement

"_The lead investigator, FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth, has declined to comment on any recent findings, but we do know that he has been partnered with the Jeffersonian Anthropology unit which has one of the premier forensics teams in the nation. In the meantime D.C. citizens are holding their breath in anticipation of the next killing. This is Debbie Clyne, CNN news."_

Amsterdam gazed at the screen, but his mind focused on another time and another place.

* * *

_**Washington D.C.  
**__**1866**_

_Amsterdam looked closely at the footprints on the ground. He studied the blood that was placed in perfect symmetrical patterns alongside the indentations in the ground. _

_Stepping quietly, Johann ascended the stairs to the bell tower. The sight that greeted him was grisly as it was horrible. A woman in her twenties was propped up against the wall of the tower. Judging by the state of her body she'd been up there for more than a few days._

_The most noticeable thing was the hilt of a bowie knife sticking out of her chest._

* * *

"Hey Amsterdam? You there?" asked his partner.

"Huh? Oh yeah, I just thinking that these murders in D.C. look a lot like something I've seen before"

"Really? Where?"

"In D.C."

With that statement he got up from his chair and went into his Sergeant's office. He had to make arraignments for a trip to Washington D.C.


	2. Amsterdam arrives

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Fox show Bones, nor did I create these two characters or the places described here. No copyright infringement intended and no monetary profit. This is purely for testing my own creativity.

Connor

**Authors Note:** This is the start of a whole slew of Bones stories that are primarily crossovers with other movies and TV series. I will be working to constantly refine my writing technique to deliver as good of a story that I can for you, the readers, to enjoy. Constructive reviews are appreciated and negative criticism will be ignored.

Ok … I didn't get one review for the first chapter of this story.

Is it really that bad?

I'll post this chapter and maybe one other, but if there are no reviews then I guess I will move on to something else.

* * *

**Bones/New Amsterdam  
**_**A Killer: Past & Present**_

In today's world there is much evil present. Yet, for all the evil in the world there are those that champion the cause of good, those that give voice to the victims of evil, and those who give justice for the dead.

Sometimes it just takes a hundred and forty years or so to do this …

* * *

**Ronald Reagan Airport  
****Washington D.C.**

John Amsterdam stood just outside the airport. In the distance he could see the various monuments that had been erected across D.C.

Hailing a cab, he directs it towards Ford's theater and into his past …

* * *

_**Washington D.C.  
**__**1865  
**__**Just outside Ford's theater**_

_A tumultuous commotion commenced outside as Amsterdam rode up. A man, limping with a broken leg, leapt up onto a horse and galloped away. _

_Amsterdam inquired with one of the patrons who stood numbly outside the alleyway entrance. _

"_Excuse me Sir … What has happened here tonight?" _

_The man slowly turned and looked up at Amsterdam, replying:_

"_My good man … President Lincoln has been shot!"_

_Amsterdam sat on his horse, shock slowly settling in_

* * *

Amsterdam was brought back to the present day by the persistent questioning of the cab driver

"Hey buddy, you there? We're at Ford's theater like you asked. You want to get out or no?"

Amsterdam looked around at the area. The past was gone and he had a killer to catch.

"No" he replied. "Take me to the J. Edgar Hoover building. I have business there"

"Alright buddy, it's your dime"

With that final thought, the cab pulled back out into traffic and drove away. Amsterdam turned around in the seat to stare, almost seeing the ghosts from the past that hung behind like apparitions on a foggy morning.

**

* * *

****Jeffersonian Institute  
****Washington D.C.  
****Several hours later**

Special Agent Seeley Booth paced Brennan's office like a caged tiger. He was frustrated and it showed by his attempt to wear a hole in her rug.

Brennan sat at her desk, the evidence of the case splayed out before her, searching through trying to grasp that one fact that might have escaped them.

Her gaze, however, wandered to Booth. She sat back and contemplated the man before her. He paced with an easy grace, belaying the confidence and power that rested beneath his suit. She also noted that he was quite upset over the fact that they had been stonewalled by the killer despite the collection of talent and agents trying to catch him. Others might mistake it for an arrogance of ability on Booth's part, for he was quite skilled at his job.

No … Brennan knew better. Underneath the cocky exterior beat the heart of a warrior, a man determined to right his perceived wrongs on the cosmic balance sheet, someone who brought justice to those who had their lives taken from them, and a man who strove to protect the innocent.

All these were qualities that she admired and … if she dared follow the train of thought … loved about him.

Booth's pacing was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone.

"Booth" He said as he snapped it open and answered the call. He listened quietly for a minute or so then hung up, making his way over towards her desk. There seemed to be a slight spring in his step.

"That was Cullen. It seems that some new information has come up in the case and he's sending over the person who brought it in to him. It's a New York City Detective of all things. He's had him checked out and he's legit"

"Legit? I don't know what that means" said Brennan.

"You know … Legitimate … as in legal … as in O.K."

Brennan merely raised her eyebrows in apparent confusion.

"Why would he not be legitimate? Was he born to an unwed mother?"

"You know … never mind Bones, he'll be here any minute. Let's go meet him"

She rose from her chair and proceeded out in front of Booth. Booth stepped up behind her and wondered for a second how such a lovely woman, with a probable I.Q. of 195, could be so uneducated in culture and verbal expressions. That, however, was one of her endearing charms that made Booth love her.

Love? When had that thought poked its head into his brain he thought

Suddenly Brennan stopped and whipped around to face Booth, stopping mere inches in front of him.

"I get it!" She said, with a large smile lighting up her face.

"You meant to say that the Detective is fully accredited by the institution he works for and is not fraudulent in his intentions towards us and the case!"

Booth smiled and lost himself gazing into her bright blue eyes.

In a husky whisper he replied,

"Yeah Bones, you got it …"

Brennan realized that they were having what Angela called "A moment". Booths' hand involuntarily came up to touch her cheek as he smiled and, despite herself and her iron self control, Brennan found herself leaning into his touch and softly closing her eyes.

However, the moment was broken by the alarm of the security system going off.

Jumping back from each other as if shocked, Booth and Brennan looked out from her office towards the platform. There stood a tall man with brown hair who was being detained by a security guard. A look of annoyed patience crossed his face and he was greeted by those on the platform.

Booth, recognizing the look of a cop when he saw one, headed out to the platform with Brennan following in his wake.

* * *

Dr. Camille Saroyan looked up from her examination of the corpse to see what the source of the disturbance was. What she was greeted with was a charm smile that could give Booth's a run for his money.

"Hello, you must be Dr. Saroyan" He said, the smile in full effect.

Not that Cam was actively looking by any means, but she did notice that he was quite nice to look at and his easy going respectful manner appealed to her.

"I am, and you are?" she replied.

Taking her hand, he turned on the charm.

"Forgive me for not introducing myself to a beautiful woman. I am Detective John Amsterdam from the New York City Homicide division. I have volunteered my services to the FBI concerning the recent serial killer case."

Cam, who was immediately taken with his manners, began blushing and pulling stray hairs behind her ear. She noticed Booth and Brennan ascending the platform and motioned towards them.

"These are the two who you want to confer with, Special Agent Seeley Booth and Dr. Temperance Brennan. I … I … have to go … do something."

Smirking a little and watching her walk away, Amsterdam turned to greet the newcomers who were stopped at the entrance to the platform. The first thing he noticed was Booth's stance. He was in front of and to Brennan's right, thereby affording him the best access to shield her while keeping his gun hand free.

Brennan simply looked him over and then placed her small hand on Booth's elbow.

As if this was an unspoken word, Booth relaxed slightly and both advanced forward as a team.

_Wow_, thought Amsterdam, _there's something to that relationship. Guess I should tone down the charm around these two. _

Extending his hand, he reintroduced himself to them.

"You must be the ones I am looking for. I come from New York to see if I can help out with your serial killer case. I have info that will be of great value to the investigation"

Handshakes were exchanged with Booth's grip being just a little extra firm.

Brennan, realizing what he was doing, smacked him on the arm.

"Booth, we are all professionals here. There is no need to be a grandstanding alpha-male here."

Turning and flashing the charm smile on her, he replies:

"Only for you, Babe"

"Don't 'Babe' me, Booth"

Amsterdam, apparently amused and confused by the escalating bickering between the two, turned towards the rest of the squints that were gathered. First and foremost was Angela Montenegro, the chief forensic artist of the Jeffersonian.

"Why helllllo tall, blue eyes, and sexy Detective Amsterdam." she said.

Amsterdam, seeing a reprieve from the bickering in front of him, turned and introduced himself to her.

"I see why the Jeffersonian has such a reputation preceding it. If the talent here is matched by the beauty I see, then this will indeed be a joyful experience"

As he took her hand to shake it, he also bent down a little and kissed her hand as well.

Angela, in an unprecedented display, was actually quiet and still for a second. However, nothing ever really fazes her for long.

"Oh, you are a charmer Mr. Amsterdam. I would also like to introduce Dr. Jack Hodgins, my fiancé, and Dr. Lance Sweets, our profiler"

Both stood off to the side, Jack with a small grimace on his face and Sweets looking sheepish.

With introductions aside, everyone turned towards the bickering couple on the other side of the platform who had ended their argument and were now waiting quietly for everything to proceed.

"So" began Booth "You've been to see Cullen and he's convinced that you can help us. What have you got?"

Amsterdam, possessing a small flair for the dramatic, began taking items out of his briefcase and laying them out on one of the empty examining tables.

"Our killer is not doing anything new. As a matter of fact, he's an exact copycat of a series of murders that have happened before"

A stunned quiet greeted that proclamation.

"When? Where?" asked Booth.

"Right here in D.C. ... in 1866"


	3. 1866

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Fox show Bones, nor did I create these two characters or the places described here. No copyright infringement intended and no monetary profit. This is purely for testing my own creativity.

Connor

**Authors Note:** This is the start of a whole slew of Bones stories that are primarily crossovers with other movies and TV series. I will be working to constantly refine my writing technique to deliver as good of a story that I can for you, the readers, to enjoy. Constructive reviews are appreciated and negative criticism will be ignored.

I would like to thank those that reviewed this story (Animefreakkagome, mendenbar, and corvette lead). Your thoughts and comments are much appreciated.

All I ask is that folks be patient with me as this is a learning experience, as I am sort of teaching my self how to write a good story.

Reviews (especially those with constructive criticism) are appreciated as always.

* * *

_**Jeffersonian Institute  
**__**Washington D.C. **_

The combined investigative team of the Jeffersonian and the FBI stood stunned at the New York City Detectives announcement.

Detective John Amsterdam stood before them with an old manila folder in hand and the contents spread out on an examination table.

FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth was the first to speak.

"Wait … These killings have happened _before_?" he said.

"Yes" Amsterdam answered.

"Explain please."

Amsterdam composed himself and seemed to look inward.

"In 1866 an … ancestor … of mine was serving in the United States Army as a physician. He was called in to exam the bodies that were found and proceeded to put the clues together. He tracked down the killer and shot him on the shores of the Potomac. That killer was a former Confederate Calvary man who was killing prominent people, or their relatives, who were involved in the Civil War."

His eyes glazed over with the memories rising to the surface …

--

_**Washington D.C.  
**__**1866**_

_Doctor Amsterdam stood in the bell tower, the sight where he had discovered the body of the woman the night before. Beside him stood a rather prominent official, one of the president's cabinet. Various detectives and others milled around, looking for anything that would indicate who had conducted the murder. _

"_I cannot stress to you the importance of keeping this quiet Doctor. If the press catches wind of this, there will be panic and hell to pay." The official said._

"_I understand, Sir. I would like to be included in the investigation to track down this killer." Amsterdam replied. _

"_We'll see Doctor. For now, examine the bodies we've found to see if there's any clue as to who's doing this" _

"_Yes Sir" he saluted and the official walked away. _

_--_

_For the next few days, Amsterdam compiled every shred of evidence that he could concerning the case. Noticing a pattern beginning to emerge, he concluded that every victim was in some way related to the upper command staff of the Army of the Potomac. There had only been five victims so far, but Amsterdam had a good guess as to who was the next victim. _

_Later that night, Amsterdam prowled the warehouses near the dockyards. He was guessing that the next victim, who was the daughter of a very prominent Colonel, was going to pass through this street in their carriage. _

_True to his guess, he turned the corner to find a carriage pulled off to the side of the street and the driver laying unconscious across the top board. Frustration welled within his being … he was too late. _

_Suddenly a scream came off from the street to the right. Amsterdam bolted over to where the sound originated. The sight he saw was enough to make him pause. _

_There, barely lit in the light of a gas lamp, was a young girl of maybe 14 years of age. Facing her was a man dressed in an overcoat and what looked like a battered gray hat. The overcoat slid off his shoulders to reveal a beat up and torn Confederate Calvary uniform. _

_The Confederate spoke to the young girl who was cowering before him. _

"_It's nothing personal ma'am against you, just yer pappy. Y'all took part at Gettysburg. I lost both my brothers and my pappy there. Now I'm going to make the commanders feel the pain that I feel." _

_He had advanced to within a couple feet of the child and positioned his arm back like a steam piston. This was when Amsterdam decided to take action. _

"_HEY!" he screamed, while unholstering his Colt. 44 pistol. _

_The Confederate whipped around and immediately saw that he was a disadvantage. All he was armed with was the Bowie Knife. He bolted off into the night. _

_Amsterdam ran over to the girl and ascertained that she was OK, if a little shaken. _

"_Go back to the carriage and your driver. Have him make all speed to your fathers' house and tell them to bring reinforcements down to the docks … OK?" _

_She shakily nodded her head in an affirmative manner and Amsterdam took off after the receding figure. _

_The chase wound all over the warehouses, with Amsterdam firing a couple shots after the figure. Just as they approached the pier, Amsterdam got a lucky shot in and winged the soldier in the leg. _

_The soldier, realizing that he could no longer escape and had no other options to explore, stopped and faced Amsterdam. He could hear the voices of Amsterdam's reinforcements getting closer. He was stuck on a pier with no where to go except into the icy water. _

"_Well … looks like you got me cornered Union man" he said. _

_Amsterdam cocked the trigger again and pointed his gun right at the Calvary man. _

"_Why did you do it? Why kill those people? They did _nothing_ to you." he asked. _

_The soldier turned his head off to the side and appeared contemplative for a minute. _

"_Sir, you wouldn't understand. Where I come from in the mountains, we live by the old code. The one of an eye for an eye … a tooth for a tooth."_

_He twirled the Bowie Knife in his hand and looked into the reflection on the blade. _

"_My daddy and my two brothers were captured at Gettysburg. The people in charge were brutal to them. Finally, they decided to try and escape the torture they were undergoing. They were caught again and executed by being stabbed with a knife. Those that did it … and those that told them to do so … they will PAY! I swore a blood oath on my kin's graves and if I don't do it, someone else will … now or later"_

_Amsterdam look a little puzzled at the pronouncement of "now or later" and that served to distract him for a split second. The Confederate seized upon the moment and sprang at him. _

_Amsterdam, however, had picked up more than a trick or two in the 200 years he had been alive. He sprang backwards as the soldier leaped for him and pulled the trigger, all in one continuous motion. _

_The shot pierced his heart & lungs, and the soldier staggered back towards the edge of the pier. With a spray of blood coming from a cough, the soldier fell back into the water. _

_Amsterdam peered over the edge, looking down to the body floating in the water. He sighed and lowered his gun. _

_It was finally over. _

_--_

The Jeffersonian crew sat quiet and contemplative after listening to Amsterdam's tale. One of the first ones to react was Sweets.

"So there have been killings of the exact same type as before. Obviously someone learned of them and has been copying his style, albeit with some modifications. I'd like to see whatever you have there and try to work up a profile." He said.

General assessment greeted that around the table. Off to the left, Booth and Brennan sat in quiet contemplation. Sweets scurried off with the old papers and the squints returned to their various tasks. This left Amsterdam, Booth, and Brennan alone with nothing to do quite yet.

Brennan chose that moment to pipe up:

"I'm going to talk with Cam and see if there's anything else on the weapon that can be extrapolated"

"I'm sure that the famed intellect of Dr. Brennan can find something where no one else can. I've followed a couple of your national cases and been very impressed with the attention to detail and the obvious pride you take in your work." said Amsterdam.

Brennan seemed to perk up a little at his words and flashed a quick full smile at him before heading to Cam's office. A few steps into her walk though, she half turned and looked at Booth with a concerned expression on her face. Concern … mixed with something else, John saw.

Behind him, Amsterdam heard what he swore was a low growl coming from Booth. Turing towards the sound he saw that Booth's warm brown eyes had changed to a near shade of pitch black.

He paused and began his assessment of Agent Booth. Many years ago, Amsterdam had spent time as an anthropologist, learning about behaviors and group dynamics. His training as a cop and a few degrees in psychology had further heightened his understanding of the human mind. It was one of the reasons why he was so effective as a cop and had made detective within a few years of joining the NYPD.

What he saw in front of him was an Alpha male who was seeing a challenge to his leadership, and possibly … on a sub-conscious level ... thought that john might be trying to take his mate. Unbeknownst to him, Brennan made this observation all the time. Booth's eyes studied him and were sizing up what potential threat Amsterdam presented.

_Time to defuse this before it gets any further_, thought John.

"So Agent Booth, you have any thoughts on the case? I looked you up before I got here. You have one of the most impressive arrest records of the FBI and are highly decorated." He said

Booth, expecting some sort of challenge towards him, appeared slightly taken aback by the praise Amsterdam handed out.

"Well" he responded "Based on the information you've provided we can look for a pattern and possibly figure out a pattern to the killings. I think you already know that though. And I think you already know the pattern. You were keeping something out of that story that you told us."

Amsterdam quickly upped his mental assessment of Booth. Seeley was adept at reading body language and discerning what was said and unsaid.

"Just personal aspects of my family that aren't relevant to the case and don't need to be known" said Amsterdam. _Like the fact that it was _me _who chased down the killer and shot him … not my "ancestor" _he thought.

Curiously, Booth had taken a poker chip out of his pocket and began flipping it back and forth through his fingers. John could tell that his mind was racing a mile a minute and decided that he liked Booth. He also noticed a tattoo on his right arm that would be one of the keys to getting him to open up and trust him.

Amsterdam pointed towards his arm. "What unit?" he asked.

Booth looked startled and almost dropped his chip. "Rangers" he replied, with the faraway look in his eyes that said memories had resurfaced. Ugly memories of war and violence. He almost physically shook off the effect and asked "You?"

"I spent a few years in the Big Red One and a couple other places" he replied

Booths eyes softened from the harsh tone he held and the poker chip stopped flipping. "Stuff I'm not supposed to ask about, right?"

Amsterdam nodded his head in an affirmative motion and then said "And you can't mention yours, right?".

Booth smirked and nodded his head in affirmation as well. A small quiet passed between them while both seemed to re-evaluate their stances towards each other. Booth motioned towards Brennan's office and said:

"C'mon, Bones keeps some beer in her office. Lets go have a drink."

John paused and almost appeared embarrassed. "I … ah … I've been sober for a long time" he said. Booth stopped short at this remark and turned to look at Amsterdam. He looked at him for a long hard second before he appeared to make a decision. His gut said to trust Amsterdam. He flipped the poker chip towards John who caught it with one hand.

"I've been clean for a few years myself. I keep that on me as a reminder of how low I got and how I never want to go back there again" he said.

Amsterdam looked at the poker chip and said: "Well, if you've got some water or tonic in there, I could use a refresher"

Booth grinned and led the way to Brennan's office.

--

Off to the side of the platform, Brennan and Angela strode towards her office. Before they got there though Angela placed a hand on her arm and stopped her short.

"Wait. Hunky blue eyes and F B eye candy are heading towards your office. I wonder if they're getting along?"

Brennan looked a little peeked at the interruption and stated so. "Ange, there's no reason why they wouldn't get along despite Booth's alpha male idiosyncrasies. They are both competent professionals who can set aside tribal instincts to-"

"Bren, honey" Angela cut her off , raising her palm towards her "Booth was practically peeing all over the place to mark his territory. I'm surprised he didn't lift his leg and mark you."

Brennan opened her mouth to reply then stopped. She appeared to think about it for a second and analyzed Booth's behavior towards her and Amsterdam, particularly when she left the two of them alone.

A blush crept over her face at the behavior Booth had displayed. Angela sat back and watched her friends face as the thought process took place. Brennan went from embarrassed to annoyed to slightly pleased then to angry.

"That … that … man!" she said. Angela chuckled and said to her "Calm down Bren. I think its cute"

"It is not cute. It's … it's …"

"Cute and endearing?"

"Yes! I mean NO! I mean …" Brennan replied, completely flustered. She abruptly took off towards her office, Angela in tow.

The scene that greeted her was unexpected. Booth sat in one of the armchairs having a beer while Amsterdam sat on the couch drinking one of her bottled waters. The two of them were laughing at some hilarious joke. Brennan stopped short. She had been prepared to give Booth a reprimand for his behavior towards Amsterdam and did not expect the scene in front of her.

Booth, as if having a sixth sense towards her, turned and asked her: "Everything O.K. Bones?"

She stood a little dumbfounded and didn't know quite what to say. Angela, ever the one to salvage a social situation, poked her head in past her and proceeded to defuse the situation … rather bluntly.

"Well, that's a relief" she said.

Booth raised a questioning eye towards and asked "What's a relief?"

"We thought you to would be in here … I don't know, arm wrestling for dominance or seeing who could fart the loudest … or something like that. You've learned to play nice though Booth. I'm so proud of you" she said with a cheeky grin.

Booth rolled his eyes and got up out of the armchair, heading towards Brennan, who looked a little lost and unsure of what to do. He reached the doorway and, although speaking to Angela, he looked right at Brennan.

"John and I were just swapping some stories on our time in the service and some interesting cases we've worked on. Did you know he once chased a suspect through a baseball game at Yankee stadium … while the suspect was shedding clothing as he went? He was completely naked by the time he reached third base."

A snort came from the couch as Amsterdam remembered that particular chase.

Angela, seeing that everything was well in hand, decided to try and slip away. Meanwhile, Booth and Brennan continued to stare at each other. Booth silently reassuring her that he was OK and everything was fine. Brennan, in her case, looked for signs of tension and trouble that she could help Booth with.

Quite suddenly an arm snaked its way through Brennan's and Angela pulled, breaking her from the locked eyes that the pair had.

"Come on Bren, the boys are bonding. We good females should leave men to man time. They'll be fine." Angela said as she dragged Brennan down the hallway, weak protests issuing from her.

Booth watched Angela drag Bones away with a small smile and turned back towards the couch. Grabbing his beer and sitting back down he said "O.K., where were we? Oh yeah, you were telling me about the picture mailing guy"

Amsterdam, who had watched the whole exchange, remained silent. He was watching Booth with a studying expression on his face. Booth, a little put off by the quietness and John's look, peered down at his tie and asked:

"What? Do I have beer on my tie or something?"

Amsterdam shook his head no, then resumed studying him. Seeley was getting a little uncomfortable at this point and also starting to worry that the conversation was going to take a serious turn.

"What?" Booth asked.

Amsterdam decided for the blunt approach. He liked Booth and could see that he needed to be forced to do something that otherwise he wouldn't consider … no matter how much he wanted it.

"How long have you been in love with Dr. Brennan?"


	4. The phone call

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Fox show Bones, nor did I create these two characters or the places described here. No copyright infringement intended and no monetary profit. This is purely for testing my own creativity.

Connor

**Authors Note:** This is the start of a whole slew of Bones stories that are primarily crossovers with other movies and TV series. I will be working to constantly refine my writing technique to deliver as good of a story that I can for you, the readers, to enjoy. Constructive reviews are appreciated and negative criticism will be ignored.

Again, thanks for the reviews folks. I know that I seem to be a better humorist than a good action/mystery/whatever writer, but its all part of the learning process.

* * *

"How long have you been in love with Dr. Brennan?"

Booth was caught quite unawares by Amsterdam's question. He sat upon the armchair gaping with his open mouth.

"I'm not … we're not … I mean … I would never …" he said.

"Why not?" replied Amsterdam.

"We're partners, that's why. And as partners … there's a line we can't cross. We have to maintain professionalism. Our jobs depend on it. No matter how …"

He broke off and glared at Amsterdam, who set his water down on the table and made a steeple out of his fingers.

"I think" he said "That you are in denial Booth. Just from the short observation I've made I can plainly see that you are head over heels in love with her."

Booth raised his hand as if to object but none came forth. He got up from the chair and started to pace around the room a little. Quiet ensued as he got a vacant look on his face and he paced a little aimlessly

"Why are you doing this to me?" Booth asked.

"Because I like you Booth, and I've decided that you can be a friend … and I've often found that time is too short to waste on the frivolities of dancing around each other. If I have to give you a little smack upside the head to make you realize that, then I will."

"You seem very direct for a guy I've known a very short time"

"Eh, I've been around the block a few times. I know good people when I see them. You, Dr. Brennan, and those here are good people. I intend to help you any way I can."

"And that includes messing in my personal affairs?"

"If need be, yes …"

Booth glared at Amsterdam, who merely chuckled. Grabbing his water from the table he stood and made his way towards the door. Turning back towards Booth, he said:

"It'll take your profiler a little while to sort through everything I've given him. I'll be back tomorrow morning and we'll go over all the evidence. And Booth …?"

"Yeah?"

"Think about what I've said. Time is fleeting and you usually only get one chance at happiness. Don't let it pass."

Booth looked down into his beer and mumbled something about 'yeah, maybe'. Amsterdam nodded a small smirk on his face. That would have to do for now.

--

**Jeffersonian Institute  
****The Next Morning**

Although no one totally realized it, assembled at the upper level conference table was one of the finest teams in crime fighting that has ever been put together. Between them all they had several Doctorates, over several hundred years of experience, and a large healthy dose of gut instinct.

Around the conference table several white boards and peg boards had been setup. Amsterdam and Sweets had their heads together outlining a profile on the killer. Off to the side Cam, Jack, and Angela sat discussing various points of evidence that had come up in the case so far. Up the stairs came Booth and Brennan.

"OK people, what have we got so far?"

All eyes turned towards the board that Sweets and Amsterdam stood in front of. Sweets turned and started to say something but he was cut off by Booth.

"John, what have you and the kid put together?"

Amsterdam, as always the astute judge of people, patted Sweets on the back and said:

"Well, it wasn't so much me as the good Doctor here. He has a keen insight into the human mind and has much to say. Go ahead Lance."

Sweets, blushing from the sudden attention and praise being shown to him, cleared his throat and started outlining the points laid out on the board.

"OK, we've had five killings so far. Each body has had no relation in physical attributes. We've had three women, ranging in age from late twenties to early fifties. Two males have been part of this group as well, one in his 40's and the other late 60's.

"What this tells us is that there is a pattern, but not one based upon the usual serial killer qualifications. He has no grudge against women or men in particular. And the fact is that, due to Agent Booth's diligent investigation, all the victims have had no previous association with each other."

Amsterdam chose that moment to interrupt:

"Sweets, how do you know that the killer is a male?"

Brennan interceded. "Cam found out that, based upon the blade angle of entry in each victim, combined with the amount of force needed, as well as other factors relating to bruising found on shoulders and body parts where they were gripped, we've deduced that the killer is a male who stands about six foot tall and is quite a muscular individual"

"Thank you Dr. Brennan." Replied Sweets "Using the material Detective Amsterdam brought here last night, and doing a background research on all the victims, we've determined that each person was a descendant of one of the original Union troops that started this all. They're descended from the ones who stabbed the bowie knife killer's relatives to death in 1866.

A surprised look passed over the group.

Jack voiced the thought that everyone was thinking:

"So this … is revenge?"

--

**Washington D.C.  
****Hollings construction site  
****Downtown Area**

Matilda Lee Johnson was what people call a nice old Lady. She doted on her grandkids, gave to her church and charity, and walked to the shopping center to do her shopping on Saturday. This is what brought her past the new construction site for the offices a few blocks from the plaza were she was headed.

The day was like every routine Saturday for her. She walked along, humming her church hymns and thinking to the day ahead when her daughter would bring the kids over. She was so lost in thought that she almost missed the signs that something was wrong. Every time she walked past the gate to the site, it was always chained and locked. Today it wasn't.

With curiosity getting the best of her, she stopped and proceeded to look around wondering what else was wrong with the scene. She knew that there were people who raided construction sites for large quantities of precious metals such as copper and brass to sell for scrap money. This train of though was quickly derailed by what she saw walking in ahead of her.

There was a large man, probably about six foot or so, who was dragging a canvas wrapped bundle along the ground behind him. As she watched, a bit of the canvas came loose and a hand flopped out. The man stopped and proceeded to drop the bundle so that he could secure the hand back inside. As he did so, she caught a clear view of a large knife on a sheath, strapped to his belt.

Matilda was no dummy. She watched the news every night and knew that there was someone who was going around the city killing people with a large knife. She quickly scurried out of eyesight in the entrance and proceeded to dig into her purse for the cell phone that her son made her carry with her. _Bless that boy for thinking ahead about his momma's safety_ she thought, and proceeded to dial the FBI hotline number that she had seen every night on the TV.

The Bowie killer, possibly having a hint that something was off, looked up and around for something that was amiss. Thankfully though, Matilda had moved out of eyesight and hadn't made much noise at all. He finished rewrapping his victim in the canvas and proceeded to begin dragging the bundle along behind him again.

--

Sweets and Amsterdam stood in front of the whiteboard outlining more of the crucial points that brought more of the killer's mindset into focus.

"So" said Amsterdam "He, the killer, has had forensic tech training and is incredibly meticulous about policing his crime scene. He knows exactly what to look for and what can be used as identifying evidence to track and capture him.

"He also has to have found some sort of notebook and/or source material that is letting him duplicate the same crimes from 1866. I'm almost considering whether he might be a direct ancestor of the original killer."

"Revenge ... after almost 145 years? That's highly illogical and irrational" said Brennan.

Sweets chose this time to further his psych assessment:

"We're dealing with a highly rational person, almost like Zach, who probably has been raised with the tale of the original killer and the debt that is still owed. You yourself can appreciate, Dr. Brennan, that a blood feud can be carried down through several generations of descendants in many cultures, past and present"

"Yes" she replied "But I do not know if this was common place in the culture that was indicative of the southern states after the Civil War"

"Believe it Dr. Brennan" said Amsterdam. "I've studied that time period extensively. They were capable of it."

At that point in time, Booth, who had been silent through most of the exchange, felt his cell phone buzzing. He reached into his pocket, checked the number, and then indicated that he had to take the call.

"Booth" he said.

He listened quietly for a few seconds while attention focused on him. He then raised his hand as an indicator for silence, while pulling out a pen and notepad.

"Uh huh … downtown area … Hollings construction site … called in about two minutes ago. Got it! Thanks!"

He slammed the phone shut and turned to face the group. At this moment, Amsterdam's other assessment of Booth came to the fore. Natural alpha male, accustomed to making the hard decisions and taking charge when he needs to.

"OK everybody, someone called in with a tip a few minutes ago. They saw someone, about six feet tall or so, dragging a body wrapped in canvas and he had a large knife strapped to his belt. I think we've got our killer. Bones, Amsterdam, you're with me. Everyone else, start assembling the evidence for Caroline at the prosecutors office. She will want to be on this one quick"

With that he whirled around and started down the steps, Brennan and Amsterdam trailing on his heels. The rest of the group broke out expectant grins and proceeded to start compiling the evidence to finally catch the killer and put him away.

--

Less than 10 minutes later, with the siren screaming and lights flashing, Booth's SUV approached the Hollings construction site where Matilda had called from. Booth had called in backup, but it was still a few minutes away.

Screeching to a halt, the three piled out of the car and headed towards the entrance. Waiting for them was an old gray haired lady who was waiting expectantly. She waved them over, recognizing Booth and Amsterdam from the suits and the way they moved as cops. Although … the woman following slightly behind the two didn't look or dress like a cop.

"Excuse me ma'am" said Booth "Are you the one who called in to the FBI?"

"Yes Sir, Matilda Lee Johnson. I called a little over 10 minutes ago. The man headed towards the main structure ahead of you and hasn't come back out."

"Thank you ma'am. I'll have to ask you to stay out here for your safety and to direct the other cops who are on their way"

She nodded her assent and moved off towards Booth's SUV. Booth and Amsterdam pulled out and checked their guns, then started towards the open gate. Brennan started to follow.

"Whoa, hold up Bones. You're not going in there." Said Booth.

"Why not? I've backed you up plenty of times. I've even brought my new gun, see!" she said, as she pulled out her new .45 automatic.

"Heh, the .50 caliber revolver a little to big for you Bones?" He replied.

Brennan blushed a little and said "Doesn't matter, I'm going in." with the resolute look on her face that told Booth that he wasn't going to get his way.

Booth started to object again when Amsterdam chimed in:

"Look, as much as the lovers quarrel is fun to watch, we have a killer to catch."

Booth and Brennan proceeded to look duly chastened and darted forward.

--

Making their way through the steel structure that was partially open to the elements, the trio proceeded towards the center where a dim figure could be seen holding something that reflected in the partial light. As they advanced they started to make out details of how he was dressed.

He did indeed stand about six feet tall and was clothed in what looked like grey pants and a grey button up coat. On his head sat what looked like a Civil War Calvary hat with a bandana wrapped around his face. There was no way they could make out details they could use to make identification. A black overcoat sat off to the side, crumpled next to the canvas that he had the victim, a young girl, who was tied to one of the support beans, upright, with rope.

Booth, seeing that the killer was about to plunge his knife into the girl, brought his gun up and yelled:

"FBI! DROP THE KNIFE!"


	5. Death comes

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Fox show Bones, nor did I create these two characters or the places described here. No copyright infringement intended and no monetary profit. This is purely for testing my own creativity.

Connor

**Authors Note:** As always, I am constantly working to refine my writing technique to deliver as good of a story that I can for you, the readers, to enjoy. Constructive reviews are appreciated and negative criticism will be ignored.

Again, thanks for the reviews folks. They are appreciated and they do encourage us writers to do more … (not so subtle hint here).

* * *

**Washington D.C.  
****Hollings construction site  
****Downtown Area**

"FBI! DROP THE KNIFE!"

The authoritative declaration from Agent Booth seemed to shock the man standing before them, but only for what seemed to be a half second. In a lightening fast move, the bowie knife came up, around, and was released from the suspect's hand.

It flashed as it rotated hilt over blade, flying straight towards the trio advancing on him. Amsterdam, possessing reflexes born of combat and death defying situations, reacted in a split second, diving hard for the ground. Booth on the other hand, reacted by grabbing Brennan, who had been trailing behind the two, and rolling down and off to the left.

The killer, seeing that they were distracted for the moment, turned and ran off deeper into the warehouse. Amsterdam was up on his feet a split second after the knife passed over them.

"Booth! Let's go, he's on the run now. Brennan, help the girl and call for backup!" he yelled and started to take off.

She almost started to object from where she and Booth had fallen but a quick look from the agent, almost pleading with her, silenced it. She stared into his brown eyes for a second, and with a slight softness, warned him to be careful. Booth, flashing a quick grin, hopped up and off into the pursuit.

Brennan made her way over to the girl, who was unconscious, and quickly started untying the ropes. As she glanced off towards the way Booth and Amsterdam had run, a slight feeling of dread washed over her. This 'gut feeling', as Booth called them, warned her that something bad was about to happen.

--

Booth caught up to Amsterdam who was steadily weaving in and out of the various construction materials that occupied the area. He took up position behind a stand of pipe with Amsterdam covering behind a similar one next to him. Leaning over, he said to John:

"Hey, what are we stopping for? He threw the knife; I didn't see anything else on him …"

As he started to lean out to say this, Amsterdam motioned him back and said:

"He's got a-"

A sharp BOOM rang out from the other end of the pipes and a lead shot pinged off the pipe where Booth would have been sticking his head out. He recoiled quickly behind the rest of them and gave a dirty look at Amsterdam.

"Like I was trying to say…" Amsterdam leaned out and snapped off a couple quick shots of his pistol "I saw him pull out a revolver"

"OK, he's got five more shots before he reloads. Rush him when he's done?" said Booth.

"He's got nine, actually eight now. That's a civil war era LeMat revolver. It's got nine .44 caliber shots with a .60 caliber buckshot chamber underneath. It's a nasty and efficient weapon."

Booth blew out his breath in an exaggerated sigh. He leaned over partially sticking his head and gun around the end of the pipe. What he saw was a boot clad foot sticking partially around the end of his collection of pipes, a bandanna clad face above it, and the LeMat revolver just below that. Another sharp BOOM rang out just as Booth snapped his head back. Again, the round hit where his head would have been and whined away somewhere off in the site.

Amsterdam again snapped off a couple shots in the general direction of their assailant before almost getting hit with another shot himself. He looked over at Booth and said:

"That's three, six more to go! Got any ideas to force him out?"

Booth looked around at the area for a couple seconds before returning his attention to the pipes he was sheltered behind. Then a sudden look of comprehension crossed his face and he looked over at Amsterdam.

"The pipes … they're hollow" he said with a grin.

John looked back with a perplexed expression on his face. It grew even more perplexing when Booth stuck his pistol in one of the pipes near him and started pulling the trigger, rotating the barrel of his pistol around while firing the rounds. A strangled scream of pain came from the other end of the pipes followed by the sound of someone running. Amsterdam's expression shifted to one of genuine admiration.

"You're a god damned genius Booth! Now GO!" he yelled.

Booth grinned and took off in the lead, heading off after the man running away from them.

--

Brennan sat with the victim till the EMT's and a patrol car of local cops had appeared. She made sure that they were beginning treatment before she decided to go after Amsterdam and Booth. A small voice in the back of her head told her, which sounded like a nagging Booth, '_You were explicitly told to stay with the girl_'. However the persistent feeling that something was about to go horribly wrong would not go away.

Her head came up at the faint sounds of gunfire off in the distance and she made her decision. Instructing the cops to stay and protect the girl, she took off in the direction that her partner and Amsterdam had disappeared to.

--

Booth and Amsterdam were nearing the end of the construction site. After resuming the chase, they had noticed that Booth had winged the suspect in the left arm. The Agent and the Detective had exchanged fire several more times with the killer and figured that he was now down to one bullet. They crouched behind a stack of concrete bags and yelled to the man who was about six or seven yards away crouched behind a similar stack of bags.

"Surrender your weapon and come out with your hands up!" yelled Booth.

Surprisingly, a response came from behind the other space.

"Y'all ain't gonna get me alive Agent. I've got a lot left to do and you are a problem which I intend to take care of"

Booth crouched back down and said to Amsterdam:

"He's serious. There's no way he's going to surrender to us here. He's motivated to do something which I'll bet involves more dead bodies … ours in particular"

"Let me talk to him. I might be able to rattle his cage a bit. Be ready for when he jumps out." replied Amsterdam.

Getting up into a semi crouch, John noticed the brim of a hat sticking out and the long barrel of the civil war revolver. Sighting down the barrel of his own pistol he said:

"Hey Johnny Reb ... we know what you're doing and we will stop you. It didn't work for your ancestor. He was stopped then and we'll stop you now."

"You have no idea what I'm doing Yank" came the muffled reply.

"Oh, I'm far from a Yankee, and I know exactly what you're doing. The war is long over and the men who stabbed the others are long dead"

"You don't know SHIT cop! An oath has been sworn, WE WILL HAVE OUR REVENGE!"

And with that deafening yell, the rebel clad killer stood up and aimed his revolver straight at John, thumbing back the trigger for the shotgun charge underneath the barrel. John calmly looked down his 9mm's sights and squeezed the trigger.

_Click._

In the split second between that ominous sound and the moment when the revolvers trigger was pulled, John had one thought. _Oh shit, misfire._

However, Booth had heard that sound before and instantly recognized the situation for what it was. Grabbing the back of Amsterdam's jacket, he yanked down hard. Amsterdam's head had barely cleared the top level of the bags when a loud, but low pitched, BOOM came from the killers position. The top bag of cement where John had been crouching disappeared in an explosion

"Son of a bitch! I forgot how much I hated those things" said Amsterdam from flat on his back where he had wound up.

"Your welcome" said Booth

"Thanks. He's only got one shot left by my count, so get him to fire the last one and we can rush him. Since you winged him in the arm, it would make it damn near impossible to reload that thing."

Both Booth and Amsterdam heard the noise then. A pattern of steps that said the killer was on the move once again. They peeked over the top of the bags and saw the suspect fleeing from his hiding place.

Booth stood and yelled "Freeze!"

The only effect it had was to make the killer do a half turn and fire off his remaining round towards them, which went wide and high.

"Final round, GO! GO! GO!" yelled Amsterdam while he cycled a new round into his pistol.

The chase resumed, but only for a short distance. The killer had made it to a storage shed that was near the back entrance to the site and he proceeded to duck inside the partially open doorway.

_We've got him now_, both Booth and Amsterdam thought.

This, however, was not to be the case. The killer spent all of five seconds inside the doorway before pivoting back out with a long object in his hands. Both men pursuing him recognized it for what it was.

An AK-47 automatic rifle.

With the barrel coming around and being leveled at them, time seemed to slow and Amsterdam took in the situation in a few microseconds.

The firepower situation had rapidly changed. They were outgunned. Booth was in front of him and would take the brunt of the fire. They might possibly get a shot or two off from their pistols, but they would both surely be killed in the attempt.

For Amsterdam, this wasn't that big of a problem. For Booth, however, it would be rather permanent. Another quick thought came to his mind before time resumed its normal flow.

_Dr. Brennan will be completely heartbroken if he dies. They have what I've looked for my whole, very long, life._

Making a quick decision on the spot, Amsterdam grabbed Booth by the back of his suit jacket and yanked with all of the considerable strength he had built up in 400 years of workouts and athleticism. Booth, intent on bringing his pistol to bear before the killer could line up, suddenly found his view of the world rotating.

Amsterdam pushed Booth off once he had propelled him away from the killer and tried to bring his 9mm to bear.

It was too late.

In the intervening time, the suspect had lined up the sights on the rifle and started pulling the trigger in rapid succession.

_CRACK!CRACK!CRACK!CRACK!_

The rounds hit Amsterdam straight in the chest and forcefully propelled his body backwards.

The killer, seeing Booth rolling on the ground from being pushed, and watching Amsterdam take four hits, turned and ran out onto the street that was a short distance away.

--

Brennan, who had been doing a light trot towards where she heard the gunshots go off earlier, was startled by the loud cracks of machine gun fire. She raised her tiny .45 pistol in her hand and proceeded to take off in a dead run

--

Booth, having eaten a face full of dirt from the throw, grabbed his dropped pistol and pointed it towards the absent suspect who had completely dissapeared. He turned and prepared to ream Amsterdam out for throwing him off his shot and letting the suspect get away. He wasn't prepared for what he saw and heard.

Amsterdam had sunk to his knees and was emitting a small cry of pain. Booth scrambled up and over the few steps to where he was and saw the front of John's shirt completely covered in blood.

"OH shit! Amsterdam! … John! … Hang on John, hang on man! The Ambulances are here, we'll get you help" he said as he grabbed the back of John's shoulders and gently lowered him to the ground. Booth wildly looked around and didn't see anyone nearby who could help him. He tried grabbing for his cell phone in his pocket but was interrupted by Amsterdam's hand grabbing his.

"No … no … ambulances" he said from his prone position.

"Are you fucking crazy? You'll die!" replied Booth, who was slightly panicky at this point.

A small cough issued from Amsterdam which resulted in blood spewing from his mouth. He reached up for Booth's tie, which was hanging down near his face, and pulled him down so he could hear.

"I said" another cough issued out "No … am … ambulance"

Booth heard footsteps coming up from behind him and he turned slightly to see Brennan running up.

"Booth! What happened? Did you … oh my …" she said.

Coming to a stop just behind him, she can see that Amsterdam is in very bad shape. Booth turned his attention back towards John just as he finished bleeding out from the wounds in his chest. Then, almost too quietly to hear, Amsterdam said:

"I hate this part …"

His eyes glossed over and Booth watched another person who had depended and relied on him, who he had come to call a friend in a very short time, die right in front of him.


	6. Life Returns

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Fox show Bones, nor did I create these two characters or the places described here. No copyright infringement intended and no monetary profit. This is purely for testing my own creativity.

Connor

**Authors Note:** As always, I am constantly working to refine my writing technique to deliver as good of a story that I can for you, the readers, to enjoy. Constructive reviews are appreciated and negative criticism will be ignored.

I apologize for the lack of updates, but life does have a tendency to get in the way.

To everyone who reviewed, again, you have my thanks. The reviews are appreciated and they do encourage us writers to do more … (not so subtle hint for more reviews here).

* * *

**Washington D.C.  
****Hollings construction site  
****Downtown Area**

Agent Seeley Boothstood up from the dead body of John Amsterdam. Even after all his years as a sniper, all the time he has spent investigating crime and dealing with death … it never got easier. He looked down upon the glazed eyes and lifeless expression; he squeezed his own shut to force back the tears that were forcing their way to the surface.

A small hand laid itself on his shoulder. Bones. As always she was his rock in tumultuous times. He turned away from the corpse of his friend and faced her.

Brennan, looking up into his face, saw the pain and guilt that were manifesting in his dark brown eyes and the tears that were threatening to fall. Acting upon the intense need to comfort him, and to partially shield herself from the shock, she grabbed Booth around the middle and held him. Her only thought through this whole process was:

_That could have been him; I could have lost him again. _

Booth, not expecting the distant and compartmentalized Temperance Brennan to act so … emotional, returned the hug and settled his chin on the top of her head. He was riding out the waves of emotions that coursed through him.

Brennan, feeling the grief start to overtake her as well, started to turn her focus towards the body of Amsterdam. Using a clinical eye she noted that four shots had penetrated the chest cavity and probably caused immediate trauma to the lungs and heart causing death within short order. As she rested her head on Booth's shoulder, she observed something.

The excess blood from the entry wounds was being reabsorbed back into the body.

"Booth" she said, trying to get his attention, yet fascinated by what was starting to happen in front of her.

The very subject of her observation, the body of Detective John Amsterdam, was starting to do some very strange things. The excess blood that remained behind was, as she observed, being reabsorbed into the body. The remaining bullets that had failed to exit him were slowly being pushed back out of the entry wounds that they had caused.

"Booth!" she said again, with a bit more urgency in her voice. At the sharp tone Booth raised his head up and looked down at her. Finding her gaze pointed away from him and back towards the murder scene, he rotated his head to see what she was looking at.

He almost went in to shock.

Before his very eyes, the last of the bullets popped out of Amsterdam's body and the entry wounds began to seal up, barely leaving any trace of their existence. After this was complete Amsterdam began to twitch. Color slowly returned towards his face and his hands opened and closed in a spastic motion.

With a startled gasp, he bolted up to a sitting position and sucked in a very deep lungful of air. Shaking off the cobwebs that seemed to inhabit his brain every time that happened, noticed that he had a very bloody shirt and that there should have been other people there.

"Damnit, I _really_ hate it when that happens!"

Getting up on his knees, he looked around and spotted Booth and Brennan with their arms encircled around each other. Grinning, he looked right at them and said:

"That's a good look for you two. Am I invited to the wedding?"

**X X X X**

Booth and Brennan stood there holding each other. They were in complete and total shock. If the Bowie Knife killer had popped up and started doing a hula hoop dance they wouldn't have moved from the spot.

A dead body had just sat up and talked to them.

The dead person in question got up off his knees and started dusting his pants. Noticing that it wouldn't do much good, and was kind of pointless, he nervously pointed at the blood stains on his shirt and said:

"I don't think these are gonna come out, do you? No? Damn, this was a tailored short that I got from a store on 5th Ave. Very expensive. Of course, it's not like I couldn't afford it. Maybe i'll buy you a shirt too Booth. You need better taste in clothes."

As he started this spiel of nervous chatter he slowly moved towards the couple that were still locked in mid hug and staring at him like he had two heads. Slowly advancing right up to where they were, he calmly and gently held out his hands in front of him.

"There's a very good explanation for this." He said quietly.

Those words seemed to galvanize Brennan into action. She let go of Booth abruptly and began touching Amsterdam on the chest. She slowly moved aside the remnants of his shirt to find nothing but newly healed pink skin. She looked up into his eyes and asked:

"How?"

"It's a very long story … one which I would not rather tell here, in front of all the people that are going to be swarming through here in a minute."

Almost as if getting an electric shock, Booth jolted out of his comatose stare and started directing the action.

"Bones take my keys and go get the SUV. Meet us one block over. John, take my coat and make yourself a little less bloody if you can. We've got to move before the locals get here." He said, barking orders like the Army man he once was.

Brennan snatched the keys out of his hand ran as fast as she could towards the location where they had parked. The impossible has had happened … twice. A man had risen from the dead and Booth had told her to drive his SUV. The first fact kept bouncing around in her brain while a small part of her took a little bit of glee at the second one.

Booth grabbed the ruined suit jacket that adorned Amsterdam's body and barked out a command.

"Move! You've got a lot of explaining to do, but not here and not now."

Amsterdam, knowing not to argue at this point in time, spun and started moving towards the exit where the killer had just disappeared.

**X X X X**

A few minutes later, Booth and Amsterdam had made their way over a block conspicuously avoiding the oncoming sirens of FBI and D.C. police cars. At that moment the black SUV came rolling up with Brennan's tiny frame in the drivers' seat.

Going around and popping the hatch, Booth picked out a spare shirt and suit jacket that he kept for a change of clothes. Tossing them to John, he told him:

"Change quickly; we have to get out of here before anyone notices and starts asking questions."

With relief present in his eyes, Amsterdam moved around the back and started to remove the damaged clothes. Booth moved up towards the driver side and caught the eye of Brennan. She still had the bewildered look in her eye, one he could catalogue in an instant. She was attempting to figure out the logical way that Amsterdam could have survived … and failing miserably.

Booth reached up in towards the steering wheel and looked her directly in the eye. Seeing her uncoil a tiny bit at his touch he started talking to her soothingly.

"Bones … I know your mind must be racing with questions right now. Hell I'm still slightly bewildered myself, but there will be an explanation. We … I … owe it to him to give him the chance to explain. He saved my life Bones."

Looking up into the sincerity and warmth in his brown eyes she started babbling a little.

"Booth, he shouldn't be alive. I saw the disbursement pattern of the hits. I saw the volume of blood loss. I saw the life leave his eyes. Booth … _he shouldn't be alive!_"

"I know Bones, I know"

"I saw the blood be reabsorbed quickly, which is physically impossible. I saw the bullets get pushed back out … which is impossible. I saw those wounds seal up and I saw him take a breath again. That shouldn't be scientifically possible."

Amsterdam, hearing the last part of Brennan's statement came up towards the pair and said "I promise everything will be explained in due course, but now is not that time"

Booth, appearing to make a decision, traveled around to the passenger side of the vehicle and sat himself on that seat. Reaching down he grabbed the radio and proceeded to radio in.

"22705 to base"

A short crackle sounded from the speaker before the hazy response came through.

"_Base to 22705, go ahead_"

"22705 lost the suspect and we are returning to the Jeffersonian to reorient and reacquire. I want a full forensics team to sweep the space and all evidence brought over to the Jeffersonian a.s.a.p. in addition to a full squad on the rescued victim. We will question her later."

"_Roger 22705, en route to Jeffersonian, full sweeps of location, detail on rescue vic._"

Clicking off the radio, he motioned to John to get in the backseat and then told Brennan to drive. Leaning back in the passenger seat, he closed his eyes and let the crash from the adrenaline surge overtake him.

**X X X X**

**Jeffersonian Institute  
Washington D.C. **

Upon arriving back at the Jeffersonian Institute, the three headed directly for Brennan's office bypassing everybody. Angela could tell something was up by the deep look on Brennan's face and the blank look on Booth's. Trailing slightly behind them was Amsterdam who looked a little like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar.

Entering her office Booth sat down on the couch where they had earlier bonded over beer and bottled water. Brennan moved over to sit next to him and patiently waited for the explanation that had been promised.

John started pacing a little, as if organizing how he wanted to present this. Usually, when he revealed his secret to someone, he had to convince them of the fact that he was immortal and could not die. These two had already seen the proof of that and were now waiting for the 'how' and 'why'.

As if making up his mind, he stopped pacing and turned towards them.

"It's best if I start at the beginning" he said.

Booth and Brennan leaned forward a little, unconsciously, in anticipation.

"I've been lying to you about some things. I really am a New York City Detective, but it's not the first time I've been one. I also have a son named Omar who was born in 1942."

The couple on the couch sat back, stunned at the implication he was laying on them. He confirmed what eh saw reflected in their eyes and were thinking in their minds.

"My real name is Johann van der Zee. I was born June 1st, 1607 in Amsterdam, Holland."


	7. Johann Van Der Zee

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Fox show Bones, nor did I create these two characters or the places described here. No copyright infringement intended and no monetary profit. This is purely for testing my own creativity.

Connor

**Authors Note:** As always, I am constantly working to refine my writing technique to deliver as good of a story that I can for you, the readers, to enjoy. Constructive reviews are appreciated and negative criticism will be ignored.

It should be noted that I'm taking a little bit of liberty with Amsterdam's back story. It works a little better for the purposes of my story, as something for Booth and Brennan to relate to … and it makes a little bit more sense than the one we got with the TV series.

This is also a short chapter. More to come very shortly that will get the story moving along towards it's conclusion.

* * *

**The Jeffersonian Institute  
****Washington D.C. **

"_My real name is Johann van der Zee. I was born June 1__st__, 1607 in Amsterdam, Holland." _

The pronouncement seemed to stun the couple sitting in front of him even more. They shifted uneasily on the couch and almost started to ask questions. Amsterdam lifted a hand to forestall that.

"I can see the disbelief on your faces. I'll answer all your questions afterwards, but let me continue my story first."

Moving around a little, his eyes seemed to take on an unfocused quality, almost as if he was looking back into another place … another time.

"I was born to a relatively middle-class family in Amsterdam. We didn't have huge riches, or mass amounts of comforts … but life was good and loving for a while. My father was a soldier who based his family out of there. One day we received word that he was killed in a battle with the Spaniards, never to return. After this, my mother was never the same. Then there was the sickness in 1620. I think that it was the Flu. Either way my mother, sisters, and my brothers all perished in the plague. I was 13 years old with no family and no place to go."

Booth seemed sympathetic towards the statement. He had come across countless young kids on the streets with no family who did whatever they could to survive. This also seemed to hit home to Brennan as well. She was abandoned to the foster care system when she was 15, knowing the pain that being alone can cause. Amsterdam didn't seem to notice and continued on with his monologue.

"I kind of bummed around Amsterdam for a little bit till I turned 14. Then my whole life changed. There was a notice posted for an expedition to the recently established colony of New Amsterdam to set sail in 1621. Since there were no opportunities for a young homeless kid in the Old World, I decided to leave what family and life I known and start over in the New World."

Amsterdam bowed his head at this statement, old memories digging up old emotions that were thought long forgotten.

"So, in 1621 I arrived in the New World and became one of the helpers of the Dutch Army based there. I eventually became a full fledged soldier like my father was before me and life was good for a while. Then came the massacre of 1642. That's when my old life ended and this one began."

Almost unconsciously, John moved his hand up towards his chest where his heart was. Brennan, in her short examination earlier, had seen the faint scar over the area where he now rested his hand.

"A war party of the Lenape had raided one of the outlying settlements and killed a few people there. In retribution, we were sent in to exact revenge. As soon as we got there, it turned into a slaughter. There weren't many men there and our soldiers started to destroy everything that stood in there way. I was horrified. This was not the Christian values that I had been raised with. The companions I had bunked and drank with were turning into savages before my very eyes. Near me, I noticed a young girl who was about to get run through by one of our men. I threw myself towards him and deflected his aim. In retribution, maybe in rage, he turned and ran me through."

Booth winced a little at that. He, in his study of war and the history of it, knew what kind of swords that soldiers of the time carried. It wouldn't have been pretty and it would have hurt like hell.

Amsterdam, almost as if reading Booth's mind, proceeded to relate just that.

"I was run straight through my heart and I died almost instantly."

The memories screamed through his mind … The fire of the burning village, the screams of the children as they were crushed under the ruthless feet of the Dutch soldiers.

"My last thought was that this is it. I was dead. A short time later however, I awoke on a bed of straw with the Lenape Shaman and other women circled around me. My heart had healed up whole and there was only a short scar where the blade had pierced through. They explained to me that I was now an immortal. I would not age, or die, until I found the 'The One', my soul mate. She also explained that this was a curse, but it was the only way that they could save me and repay me for the kindness that they had shown me."

Brennan, a little less enraptured than Booth was by the tale, spoke up:

"But that's scientifically impossible! There is no way you can be over 400 years old! The human body wasn't designed to last that long!"

"Then how do you explain my death and miraculous recovery?" replied John.

"I … I'm not sure ... something in your DNA maybe?"

"Here. This will prove that I speak the truth and I'm not a crazy quack. May I?" He said as he motioned to her computer.

Sitting in her office chair and logging on, John quickly brought up several websites that had historical paintings and photos on them. He motioned for them to come over and see.

The first was a painting of Whitcomb's Rangers, a Revolutionary war unit that served out of upstate NY. The soldier on the far right bore a remarkable likeness to John. The next one was a photo from 1850. It was listed as an unaccredited man on the streets of New York City. The face was Johns. The next was the group photo of John Wilkes Booth's captors. John stared back at them. After that came a picture of J.G. Benwar, a turn of the century furniture maker. Again, John's face stared through the screen.

Turning back in the chair, he asked them:

"Now do you believe me?"

Booth and Brennan had both been staring raptly at the screen.

Booth leaned back. There was no trace of disbelief on his face. This was a miracle, one of the things explained only by God. Brennan, on the other hand, kept looking back and forth from his face to the screen. Standing back up she looked right at John and said:

"That is you. The facial structure of the bone and muscle placement is too precise of a match to yours to be an ancestor. There would be genetic drift over time with new contributions from outside material … it's virtually impossible that you would look like one of your ancestors. Therefore, I can empirically conclude that you are the man in those paintings and photo's. I just don't see how."

"If you run tests on me, you'll find that I have an RZRZ blood type, which is impossible to have, a lethal level of lead, a platelet level ten times the norm, and very low levels of factor VIII."

Booth decided to break into the conversation at this point.

"So what happened after the woman brought you back to life?"

"Well, I drifted away for a while before I decided that I could do different things. I taught history at Columbia University then went and joined Whitcomb's rangers in the Revolutionary War. I've been a coachman, a cop, a carnie, a painter, a lawyer, and always a soldier. However, I think its time we returned towards the case at hand … afterwards, I will answer any and all questions that you have … on one condition."

"There's always a catch" said Booth.

"You two must swear, on pain of death, that this must remain secret. There are people I love and cherish whose lives would be destroyed by this becoming public. Do I have it?"

Booth and Brennan, both still in a little shock from the deluge of information they received, nodded mutely.

Getting up from the chair, Amsterdam crossed over to the whiteboard that had taken up permanent residence in Brennan's office. There was a rather large laminated map of D.C. outlining where the killer had left his victims bodies.

Taking a marker, John began to make little star patters over the areas.

"I was thinking about this last night, and comparing the old killer to the new one in my head. It didn't hit me till the ride back over here. There is a pattern to his kills. I'm tracing his in red … and the 1866 one in blue." He said.

He stepped back to reveal his handiwork.

There was a star pattern traced over the locations. It was in the shape of a rebel flag and the center star was missing.

"That's where we'll find our killer. Right there, in the center."


	8. Rebel Flag

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Fox show Bones, nor did I create these two characters or the places described here. No copyright infringement intended and no monetary profit. This is purely for testing my own creativity.

_Connor _

**Authors Note:** As always, I am constantly working to refine my writing technique to deliver as good of a story that I can for you, the readers, to enjoy. Constructive reviews are appreciated and negative criticism will be ignored.

I'm sorry for the delay folks. Life got a little crazy for a short bit, but it's better now.

Please review. This story will be coming to an end shortly and I would like to hear all your thoughts on how pacing was, how it fit together ... etc. etc.

* * *

"_That's where we'll find our killer. Right there, in the center." _

**XXXX**

**That same night  
****The Hideaway  
****Washington D.C. **

The Bowie Knife killer stumbled into his hiding place after making his way through a couple miles of underground D.C. tunnels and sewers. It took him longer than he had thought it would because he had to avoid the denizens who littered the tunnels near the surface.

Thankfully, his spot was obscured enough that they never thought to look near here. And, well, if they did … they could be taken care of.

Flinging himself into an overstuffed armchair, he was immediately brought up short by the stinging sensation in his left arm.

_Damn that Agent_ he thought. _But even I'll admit he was a damn smart Yankee, firing through the pipes like that. Shit, this is going to hurt like hell._

Peeling off the grey 1st Virginia Confederate Calvary uniform jacket he had on, he hissed as it tore the congealed blood off of his bicep. He tossed it to the side as it was now useless. He had many more like them though, his uniform of vengeance, his symbol of his righteousness.

After washing the wound in antiseptic he began the complicated process of stitching himself up with one hand. If there had been a silent observer looking in on the process they would have noticed various scars covering his upper body. Some looked like slice marks … others had a perfect concentric circle, which might come from a handy cigarette or cigar.

The Killer himself barely took note of his physical appearance as affected by the scar tissue. He almost carried them like badges of honor, for they had made him into the man he was today.

The procedure done, he stood up and wandered around his sanctuary. Off to the left was the old coal storage room. It was there that the descendants of the hated Yankee's came to now the transgressions of their northern ancestors. They came to know pain, the pain that was inflicted upon his family ... the pain that he would have justice for.

His wandering came to a small table that had one black & white photo of a man on it. The photo was surrounded by small mementos. A Zippo lighter adorned it, off to one side with a slightly rusty U.S. Marine Ka-Bar knife opposite it. Memories came swirling through his mind as he picked up the lighter and flicked it once in his hand. The light from the flame danced along the walls, creating shadows that seemed to flicker with a life of their own.

"I've almost got 'em all pappy. Almost." He whispered to the photo. "Soon the mission will be done and you'll finally be proud of me."

Glancing up at the shadows flickering in the light from the Zippo, they seemed to whisper … whisper messages of re-enforcement. It was time to read the good word that had been chanted for several generations in his family.

Snapping the lighter shut he moved over towards a podium that contained a very old bible. Kneeling before it, he flipped the pages till he found the well thumbed section that completed his ritual. He began to read:

"Deuteronomy Ch. 19:Vs. 21 … And thine eye shall not pity; but life shall go for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot"

Justice, it would be theirs …

**XXXX**

**The next day  
****Dr. Temperance Brennan's Office  
****Washington D.C. **

The whole Jeffersonian crew, plus Amsterdam, was gathered inside Brennan's office the next day to correlate their notes and see what conclusions they could come up with. As usual Booth was heading up the thought process, which at this point primarily consisted of reaffirming evidence and getting inside their suspects head.

"OK people, we know that there are five victims and we rescued a sixth yesterday" he said. "That victim still hasn't awoken, we suspect she's been drugged, but that'll have to wait till the tox screen comes back. Jack, what have you got for me?"

All eyes swung over to Dr. Jack Hodgins, the soil and particulate scientist.

"We mass-spec'd the canvas sheet that the victim was wrapped in and found traces of Bituminous, sub-bituminous, and Anthracite." He said

Booth raised an eyebrow at that for clarification.

"Its coal Booth" said Brennan. "So whatever location that he's been keeping himself and the victims in, there's coal dust."

Thinking that one over for a minute before Amsterdam piped in with a comment.

"I know that a lot of the buildings here switched over to being gas and oil fired at the turn of the century up to 1920's. We're probably looking for a location that's before then and not in a whole lot of use. You can't have people walking around that would hear the screams of your victims."

Booth inclined his head, taking in the information and turned to Sweets.

"Sweets, have you been able to further the profile?"

Sweets, the genius resident profiler of the team, seemed a little flustered at the sudden attention on him. He recognized that Booth was in "Alpha-male leader mode" and he had a sudden desire for praise and recommendation from him. _Something to investigate later_ he thought.

"OK, going by your notes on the chase yesterday and consulting with Detective Amsterdam this morning." He said, with a nod towards John "We've worked up a good picture of the person we're looking for. He's going to be a white male in his late twenties to early thirties who's had forensic training at some point in his life.

As we've stated before his crime scenes are way to clean for an amateur. Since he's repeating the pattern of a case from 140 years ago, it has to be something that has deep meaning to him and his bloodline. Revenge, also like we stated before. He may also have suffered some serious psychological trauma early in his youth. I'm thinking possible abuse that may have driven him to complete some sort of mission. He may feel that he's 'ordained' to finish the string of murders."

Booth seemed to digest and contemplate that for a minute when he looked over at Amsterdam and made a motion.

"John, tell everyone else what you figured out last night." He said.

Amsterdam stood and walked over to the map outlining the street pattern of Washington D.C.

"I noticed this pattern last night and filled Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan in on it. Starting with the information from my 'ancestor' there seemed to be four salient points where the 1866 killings had occurred. The areas now known as the Reflecting pool, the Mall, the West End, and Mt. Vernon square. Then I filled in the current murders." He said.

Taking the blue marker, he retraced the markings he had made last night while revealing it to Booth and Bones. Hodgins was the first to grasp the significance of the markings.

"Dude, that's a confederate flag! Our psycho is following the star pattern on the Confederate flag!"

"That's correct Dr. Hodgins. Now, we just need to figure out which building in the center area I've marked that would still contain coal dust. That's where our suspect has been holing up."

While the interchange between Jack and John was going on, Angela had risen and walked over to the map to take a closer look at the location.

"Guys." She said "The Willard"

All heads attending the meeting turned as one towards her. Booth merely looked at her and made a motion indicating her to continue.

"I was there a while ago doing some sketch work of the outside. I met and talked to one of the elderly doorman there. He was nice enough to provide me with a bit of history about it. Apparently they used a coal fired boiler system right up until the turn of the century in 1901. According to the doorman, the rooms that were used to store and move the coal to the boilers were sealed off … they were never filled in. They're still there! That's where he is … that's the Bowie killer's hiding place"

Booth and Amsterdam both moved quickly from where they were and came to stand in front of the map.

"Ange" Booth said "Access your system remotely and pull up the tunnel and map system we used for the case with the woman who was found underground"

Angela walked over and picked up her PC tablet and started punching in a series of commands. Porting it over to the large plasma display screen Brennan had in her office, she overlaid a 2D grid on a map of Washington D.C.

Brennan moved over to the display and started tracing a route from Hollings construction site to where the Willard Hotel stood. There was a line that ran from right near there to just underneath the hotel.

Booth looked over at "his" people. They dedicated their time and energy to bringing the killer to justice, working impossible hours and burning the midnight oil. The stress and fatigue showed on each one of their faces, but it was right alongside a grit and determination to see Justice done.

At this moment he couldn't be more proud of them.

"Bones, you and Amsterdam are with me. Cam, correlate all evidence and have it delivered to Caroline Julian a.s.a.p."

Cam smiled a broad grin and started to get up from her chair. "Go get the son-of-a-bitch Seeley"

Nodding an affirmation he turned to Jack. "Jack, call Agent Robertson at the Hoover and tell him to get me a full tactical team down to the Willard pronto."

At that moment Booth's cell phone rang. He picked it up and listened into it for a moment. Closing the phone, he turned to Angela and told her:

"Ange, the victim from yesterday is awake at the hospital. I want you to go down there and gently probe her for any memory that she can recall about this guy"

Last but not least, he turned to Sweets and clasped him on the shoulder. "Sweets, you've done some great work on this case. I think that when this is all said and done, we're going to take you out for a beer and then start teaching you the real way to be a cop."

Sweets chest seemed to puff out a little bit more at each and every word of his statement. If he had been a puppy, he would have followed Booth anywhere.

"You mean that?" he asked Booth.

"Yeah, just make sure you've got your chalked I.D. ready." he said with a wink.

With a final clap on Sweets shoulder, he faced Brennan and Amsterdam and said:

"Let's go end this"


	9. Confrontation

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Fox show Bones, nor did I create these two characters or the places described here. No copyright infringement intended and no monetary profit. This is purely for testing my own creativity.

_Connor _

**Authors Note:** As always, I am constantly working to refine my writing technique to deliver as good of a story that I can for you, the readers, to enjoy. Constructive reviews are appreciated and negative criticism will be ignored.

* * *

"_Let's go end this"_

**XXXX**

**Pennsylvania Ave.  
****Washington D.C.  
****Outside the Willard Hotel**

Special Agent Seeley Booth strapped on his tactical gear with his team, wishing he had either Brennan or Amsterdam by his side. It wasn't that he didn't trust his fellow agents … but Bones and John had a personal stake invested in this.

He had forced Amsterdam to stay back with the cars on the street. The suspect thought that he had killed him. If he were to show his face, there was no telling how the killer would react. Now he had to tell Bones to stay behind.

"Booth" came Brennan's voice from behind him.

He turned towards the lilting sound of her voice and faced her with an indeterminate look in his eyes. Her eyes, on the other hand, could have burned him to ashes where he stood. Behind her was Amsterdam with an apologetic look on his face. He had told that she was to stay behind and it had not gone over well. Plastering a smile on his face he said:

"Hey Bones"

"Don't you 'Hey Bones' me! Why am I not being allowed to go on the arrest with you? I can understand John being told to hold back … but why me?" she replied.

Deciding on the blunt truth he told her:

"Several reasons Bones. First and foremost is that the tactical teams have trained as a cohesive unit. I am the head officer on the case and I have to be present, otherwise I wouldn't be allowed to go either. Second, our suspect has already shown a willingness to use deadly force and unconventional methods of accomplishing escape. The unit has a much better chance of taking him down if there isn't someone in the way."

She had turned her head away during his little speech and wouldn't look at him. At the conclusion of said speech, she said in a small voice:

"I see the reasoning behind the logic Booth. I know that you have to go as well. I don't like that fact"

Moving to stand in front of her, he hooked a finger under her chin and turned her face towards him.

"There's another reason Bones. If something were to happen to you on this raid … something that you weren't trained to handle … I would never forgive myself. Never."

Something passed through her sky blue eyes just then. And if it was possible, they seemed to become a little brighter than they were just a second ago. She looked down from his gaze and said in a small voice:

"But what if something happens to you? I … I can't handle that again. I thought when John was shot … it was almost you … I won't be able to …"

"Shhh" he said while taking her into his arms and burying her head in his chest. "I made you a promise a long time ago that I would never willingly leave you. I intend to keep that promise today. See! Body armor"

She chuckled a little and wrapped her arms around his midsection. Looking over her head at Amsterdam, the two men shared a look. Then Booth dropped a kiss on Brennan's cheek and quickly moved away towards the gathering tactical team.

Brennan stood where he left her, her hand slowly tracing the area were she had felt his lips press upon her cheek.

**XXXX**

**Underneath the Willard Hotel  
****Washington D.C. **

The Bowie Killer wasn't in the best of moods. His wound where the FBI Agent had winged him was starting to get infected.

_A consequence of living underneath a basement I suppose_ he thought _At least I still got the other son-of-a-bitch Agent. Too bad though. They were both quick and smart. Any other time they would have been worthy opponents. _

"Today is the day Pappy." He said, directing his attention to the photograph setup near the far wall. "Today, I, Josiah Stone … shall finish the redemption that was promised by great grandma Bessie."

His pledges and vows were interrupted by a noise from a console set into the far wall. A soft _ping_ emanated from the speakers next to it, letting Stone know that there was an intruder trying to enter the tunnels that led to his chambers underneath the hotel.

"Goddamn homeless people. Y'd think that they kinda got the message by now. Don't come near the hotel stupid … sons … a … shit"

The image on the screen wasn't quite what he expected to see. There, coming down each of the two separate tunnel entrances, was an FBI tactical unit. Recalling his own days spent in the South Carolina FBI forensics squad he knew exactly what they were capable of.

"Fuck."

He had read up on the crew that was tracking him down. The Agent who wounded him was called Seeley Booth. He was frequently partnered with Forensic Anthropologist Dr. Temperance Brennan. She in turn had the full resources of the Jeffersonian behind her. He remembered the reputation that the Jeffersonian held during his field work days.

The canvas wrap.

_Damn it_ he thought _I left the wrap behind. They must have done particulate traces on it and discovered something that led them here. _

However, this was a contingency that was planned for. He still had about five minutes or so till the tactical teams converged on his hideout. Stone gathered the small person items that were lying on the tables and stuffed them into a soldiers backpack. Moving swiftly he dressed in his spare confederate uniform, put the bandana back over his face, and set his hat upon his head.

He was ready … just one final detail to set. He moved over to the console that had initially warned him and turned a key set off to the side. Just below that a timer started ticking. Three minutes and all traces of his presence would be erased.

**XXXX**

They FBI team reached the heavy steel door that guarded the killer's inner sanctum. Motioning to one of the agents who carried an extendable tube that contained a small video camera, Booth pointed to the small sliver of light that came from beneath the door.

The Agent fed the tube underneath the door and the image registered on a small color screen set into a hand pad.

Booth grabbed the tube and rotated it around. He didn't see much at first. A small table … a bed … a nightstand … a podium … a console set into the wall a little bit.

Pausing and turning the camera back to the console something caught his eye. He zoomed in a little and saw a red LED display that was running numbers across its screen.

40 … 39 … 38 … 37 … 36 … 35 …

It finally clicked in Booth's brain what that was. It was a countdown. The place was rigged to blow.

"IT'S RIGGED! FALL BACK! GO! GO! GO!" he yelled, dropping the camera and standing up to break into a run. The rest of the Tactical team moved as one fluid unit … although a slightly panicked one.

"Tac 2! Tac 2! Abort! Abort! Abort! There are explosives on premises, detonating in less than 30 seconds Abort! Abort! Abort!"

The team ran down the tunnel reaching the 90 degree turn in the tunnel just as the count in Booth's head hit zero.

A loud BOOM echoed down the confines of the tunnel, pushing a pressure wave of expanding air out in front of it, along with the heavy steel door. Booth only hoped that the other tactical team had heard his warning and gotten out in time.

**XXXX**

After Booth left Brennan stared towards the area he disappeared to for a long time. She held herself with her arms wrapped around her middle not saying a word.

A hand descended gently on her shoulder snapping her out of her trance. She looked back to see the concerned blue eyes of John Amsterdam peering at her. He motioned to a spot away from the gathered FBI agents, moving them out of earshot.

"Hey, you OK?" he asked.

"Yes … no … I don't know" she replied.

"What's bothering you? The fact that you were excluded from this raid due to extreme danger … or the fact that it's Seeley Booth placing himself in that danger?"

She didn't look towards him and stayed silent, unconsciously gnawing on a knuckle.

The look of worry on her face confirmed it for John.

"I'd say it's the worry for Seeley. Love can do that to a person" he said.

Starting as if she had been hit with a small electric jolt, she turned to face him.

"I'm not in love with Booth. Yes, he may be my best friend, but he's also my partner. There's a line that partners don't cross"

Amsterdam stared straight into her eyes and said one word. "Bullshit".

"Excuse me?"

"Temperance, I've been around for over 400 years. I know when I see someone in love. You and Booth have that look for each other."

Denial started to splutter its way to the surface when John abruptly held up a hand casting a gaze on the ground.

"Wait … what's-"

He never got to finish the statement as the ground started vibrating underneath their feet. A rumble seemed to come from nowhere and yet everywhere at the same time.

A loud squawking issued from the nearest FBI Agent's radio.

"_This is Booth in tunnel 1. The bastard had his whole area rigged to blow. I can't raise tactical team 2 on the radio. The suspect is gone and wasn't in the area. All units seal the entrances and exits to the hotel."_

Unnoticed by anyone but Amsterdam, a palatable look of relief crossed over Brennan's face.

**XXXX**

Stone went up through the small passage way that he had found bricked off from the rest of the hotel. Carrying his families' trusty old LeMat revolver, the AK that he had used to kill the cop, and one of his Bowie knives he made his way up and tried to do a little recon to see how he could get away.

Unfortunately it wasn't going to be that easy for him. Right as he emerged from a doorway he immediately came face to face with two FBI agents. Taking advantage of the surprise generated by his appearance he whipped the barrel of the AK across the temple of one agent and brought his foot up into the crotch of the other.

The first agent dropped like a rock, immediately unconscious from the blow to the head. The second fell to his knees, a little bit of vomit escaping from his mouth.

A casual sneer that they couldn't see crossed Stone's face. Reversing his grip on the rifle he snapped the butt into the kneeling agents face, rendering him dead to the world for a while.

Walking out a little towards the deserted lobby he managed to peer around a corner and was a little shocked by what he saw. The street out front was crawling with FBI agents and local D.C. cops. There was no real way that he was going to make it out of here … unless he made it upstairs. He could hide out in one of the secret passages on the upper floors till the police presence was lessened.

Before he stole away though, he sneaked one last peek around the corner and caught sight of something that made his blood boil. There was Dr. Temperance Brennan. She was probably the one that figured out where to find him.

His carefully laid plans of vengeance were starting to unravel at the seams. He didn't like this one bit.

Stepping out from the column where he was concealed he leveled the AK at the area where she stood and pulled the trigger.

**XXXX**

Amsterdam was anxiously pacing a little with his hand on his pistol. There had been no further reports from Booth's team other than to say that they were making their way back into the suspects' hideout to ascertain what they could find.

There had been no reports from tactical team 2 at all. He feared the worst and wished that he could charge right in and take down the suspect … but, he would be placing the operation in danger. He had seen far too many fail over the last few centuries because of someone deciding to play the hero and charge in with guns blazing.

He ruefully admitted to himself that he had done that quite a few times.

Something wasn't right.

Turning to stare at the doors of the hotel he noticed a figure stepping out from behind the column. The last time he had seen that figure, it was firing rounds from an AK right into his chest.

That very same person was now bringing that same weapon to bear on the outside. But, the angle was wrong. It wasn't quite pointed at him. It was off to the left. To the left … where Brennan was!

Moving more on instinct than on thought, Amsterdam turned and coiled his lower body. Continuing the move he sprang straight at Brennan, who was less than five feet away.

This move most definitely saved her life.

Hitting her like a freight train, the momentum of his impact carried down to the pavement behind one of the cars, just in the nick of time as it seemed. Stone cut loose with the AK and the rounds pierced John's overcoat that was flapping behind him.

**XXXX**

Booth scrambled back through the remains of the hallway. As he crossed over the threshold he noted the sparse area that had served as the killer's base for months. Looking around he didn't notice any human remains …

He had to have escaped somehow. How though?

At that moment Booth's radio squawked again.

"_Agent Booth this is Tac 2._"

"Tac 2, Report! Did the suspect come your way?"

"_That's a negative Booth. We got banged up by the explosion, but I've been conscious the whole time … he didn't come this way._"

"Roger Tac 2. Report back to the surface and get medical attention"

Looking around he saw the ruined video console and thought to him self:

_He knew we were coming and manually set the explosives. How did he get out though?_

One of the tactical team that had been with him in tunnel 1 got his attention.

"Booth! Over here!"

He motioned him over to a small little hole that had been blown in by the explosion. Shining a flashlight into it, a set of stairs leading up were revealed.

"Wonderful" mumbled Booth "Alright, lets move out and follow. He can't have gone far."

With Booth in the lead and the remaining members of the tactical team behind him they started up the stairs.

**XXXX**

Stone directed his fire towards Dr. Brennan and the outside area. Holding the rifle down he emptied the clip but was frustrated to see another Agent tackle her down behind a car. Strangely, the guy who took her down looked a lot like the one he had shot before …

_Son of a Bitch_ he thought _these guys are harder to kill than a cockroach._

What he didn't notice was the footsteps sounding behind him. Reaching down into his pouch he grabbed another clip and slapped it into the gun. Taking careful aim he waited for the Agent and Dr. Brennan to pop up again. If he was going to get into a fight today … he was taking down the one responsible for catching him.

Unfortunately for him, someone else had a different idea.

Booth reached down to the LeMat revolver sticking out of the holster on Stone's belt and flipped it in his left hand so that he was gripping it by the barrel. Taking one step back Booth cocked his arm back across his body.

Stone's surprise was complete and total. He attempted to swing around and bring the AK-47 to bear, but before he could do so, Booth whipped the captive revolver across his jaw, knocking Stone off his feet and onto his back, the rifle falling out of his hands and to the floor.

Taking a step over Stone's prone body, Booth pointed his own pistol straight at the killers' forehead and said:

"FBI … Freeze."


	10. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Fox show Bones, nor did I create these two characters or the places described here. No copyright infringement intended and no monetary profit. This is purely for testing my own creativity.

_Connor _

**Authors Note:** As always, I am constantly working to refine my writing technique to deliver as good of a story that I can for you, the readers, to enjoy. Constructive reviews are appreciated and negative criticism will be ignored.

This is the final chapter of A Killer: Past & Present.  
I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.

* * *

"_FBI … Freeze." _

**XXXX**

**The Jeffersonian Institute  
****Washington D.C. **

"… _and in a stunning conclusion to the 'Bowie Killer' case that has been plaguing Washington D.C., we can see Special Agent Seeley Booth leading the handcuffed suspect out of the lobby of the Willard Hotel yesterday._"

Dr. Camille Saroyan grinned as she turned up the volume on the TV.

"_His name has been revealed as Josiah Stone, a former FBI forensic tech who had been based out of South Carolina. It has been revealed that was fired under suspicion of falsifying evidence. This has been thought to be the trigger for his mad killing spree throughout D.C._"

Cam frowned at that statement. There was no way to tell what the reasoning behind his killing spree was … at least not until Sweet's had a crack at him.

"_Through the diligent efforts of the Jeffersonian Institute and the FBI, citizens of Washington D.C. can sleep easier tonight. This is Debbie Clyne, CNN news_"

Clicking off the TV, she turned to the group assembled behind her at the table she said:

"Well Seeley, you're famous now. Don't let your head swell too much."

"Hey, I was just lucky. In the right place at the right time, so to speak" he said.

"Wow dude, you are like totally nonchalant about it. If I was trying to sneak up on a creepy guy like that, I'd be shaking in my boots" said Dr. Jack Hodgins

"I think you'd find that Booth doesn't suffer from the common maladies affecting most men in that situation. He is an uncommon man amongst the common people." said John Amsterdam.

The whole group turned their heads towards Booth, who appeared uncomfortable under their gazes.

"OK people, good job on the case, but there's still other work to be done. Let's get moving." said Cam, as she motioned everyone towards the door. The Jeffersonian team rose up and filed out the door leaving only Brennan, Booth, and Amsterdam.

"I'm glad that this could finally be resolved" said John "I can finally put this case to rest after all this time"

"142 years is a long time to wait. Remind me never to get on _your_ bad side" replied Booth, with a grin.

"Oh, I don't think you'll have to worry about that. You're a good man Booth. And I suspect you'll be this way till the day you die."

And with that, he rose from his seat and started heading towards the door. Before he got there, he stopped and turned back to face Booth and Brennan.

"One last thing before I go. You two have something special. You both compliment each other in ways that I have rarely seen in the last 400 years. Each knows what the other says, does, and thinks almost before they do themselves. It is the rarest thing to have that kind of love between two people. Please don't waste it because of rules or social inhibitions that you perceive as more important."

And with that statement he turned back towards the doorway.

"Wait" said Brennan, stopping him from going any further.

She rose from her seat and made her way over towards where he stood. In a move that surprised both of them, she reached around and hugged him. Booth's mouth dropped open in surprise.

"Thank you for saving me … and thank you for saving him" she whispered.

Amsterdam looked down, his arms encircling her to return the hug.

"Hey, don't think anything of it. It's what I do, and I take care of my friends." He replied.

"Thank you anyway."

Breaking the hug, he looked back towards Booth and said:

"I want both of you to come see me in the City when you get a chance. I always make time for friends. No matter what."

Booth nodded in reply and threw him a small wave. Amsterdam graced Brennan with one more smile and left through the doorway, going back to his life in New York City.

They both watched him go, heading out towards the main doors of the Jeffersonian. After he was gone, Brennan returned to her seat next to Booth. Carefully placing her hands on the conference table, she turned her head to look at him and asked, somewhat nervously:

"Where do we go from here Boot-" she stopped at the end of her sentence and seemed to reconsider something.

"Where do we go from here … Seeley" she said instead.

Booth leaned forward in his chair, his hands grasping one of hers and slowly bringing it towards his lips and placing a chaste kiss upon her knuckles.

"We go where we were meant to … Temperance. Forward. Always forward"

They stared into each others eyes, the sounds of the Jeffersonian at work receding in the background. Brennan tightened her grip in his a little and said:

"I … I think I would like that"

_Finish_

_**Coming next in the series:**_** Bodies on Vacation**


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